Theif
by maple mouse
Summary: Prussia steals Russia's pipe and his language. Russia comes to get them back, along with a bit of revenge. Crack. one sided PruHun. Rated T for violence. One-shot.


**This story is based off of a text conversation between me and my best friend. One minute we were talking about my sister's birthday present, the next I was pretending to be Prussia and she was being Russia. When we finally stopped, we were both like, "what just happened?" It was pretty awesome.**

**List of things I own: phone, laptop, tons of books, a cat, a dog, and clothes. (please note that Hetalia is not on this list, I do not own Hetalia)**

Prussia looked haughtier than usual, Hungary thought, studying him as she walked towards the park bench where he sat. The arrogant nation usually had a certain air of smugness to him, but now Prussia seemed to radiate self-satisfaction. He sat perched on the back of the bench, wearing his proper blue military uniform with its iron cross displayed proudly for the world to see and his silvery-white hair was clean and smooth. His grin grew even wider as he spotted Hungary walking towards him.

"What are you smiling about?" she demanded, crossing her arms in mock annoyance.

Prussia hopped down off the bench and walked over to her, "If you must know, the awesome me has just finished an awesome painting that I have been working on for an awesomely long amount of time!" With a flourish, the Prussian drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Hungary. She eyed the paper warily before accepting it and opened it up to find a surprisingly well done painting of Prussia with Gilbird perched on his finger, the tips of their noses/beaks just barely touching.

Hungary blinked with surprise, "This… is actually pretty good." She admitted grudgingly, admiring the portrait.

Smirking, Prussia sat back down, "You like it, da?"

"Da?" Hungary looked up sharply, "you aren't Russia; you don't say 'da'."

Prussia's grin widened, "I am awesome enough to do whatever I want!"

"But… you're a Germanic nation… you say 'ja', not 'da'!"

"As the awesome me said, I am awesome enough to say 'da' if I want to!"

Hungary stared at him confused, "why would you want to though? You hate Russia, why would you want to use his language?"

"Actually, it's not his language anymore." Prussia stood up the stone bench, placing one foot on the head of the bench and striking a heroic pose (cough America cough), "after finishing my painting, I went to Russia and stole his language, its mine now."

"And you avoided getting your skull crushed by his pipe, how?"

"Funny story, that," Prussia laughed, "he wasn't there, I just waltzed awesomely in and took whatever I wanted. Besides, even if he was there, people as awesome as me can't die."

Hungary placed her hands on her hips, careful not to crush Prussia's painting, "Oh really? What about that time that Russia almost choked you to death, hmm?"

"Did I die? No. Even back then, I was too awesome."

"You lived because you said you were sorry, otherwise I would have crushed you, da?" An icy voice asked from behind Prussia, "a mistake I shall soon fix, da?"

Prussia turned, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat and hopped down from the bench, "N-nein, you will not crush me."

Trying to avoid Russia's notice, Hungary began to pull out her frying pan (where she was hiding it, I have no idea). As soon as the pan was drawn, she began to slowly advance on Russia, she had nearly reached him, when he turned to face her, drawing his gun, and shot her point-blank in the head.

"The ground could always use some more color, da?" Russia asked as Prussia cradled Hungary's lifeless body in his arms. "And red is such a lively color, not as much so as yellow, but still nice, the color of blood"

Trembling with rage, Prussia stood, letting Hungary's body fall to the ground, "Da," he spat, pulling out Russia's pipe, "let's use yours too."

The smile faded from Russia's lips, "give back my pipe and all the other things you stole, and I shall let birdy live, da?"

"LET HIM GO!" Prussia screamed as the Russian pulled a battered looking Gilbird from his back pocket, "I swear, if you hurt him, I willkill you! Because you are un-awesome and un-awesome people _can_ die!"

Russia smiled his creepy smile, "Russia does not die. Besides, I not find Prussia on maps anymore; care to tell me where it is?"

"I am too awesome for maps," Prussia said through gritted teeth.

"Well now, that's not nice. Perhaps I should make you match map, da?" Russia reached inside his coat and pulled out another pipe, "Good thing I have extra pipe to make you dust." He smiled humorlessly, slowly beginning to squeeze Gilbird in his large hand.

Feeling Gilbird's pain as if it were his own, Prussia clutched at his chest, "Let him go, Russia!"

Squeezing the tiny bird even tighter, Russia said coldly, "I'm not the one who steals others' things, da? I'm just helping you give them back."

"Fine!" Prussia screamed, throwing the pipe at Russia, unable to bear Gilbird's pain any longer, "Take it! I didn't like it anyway! My sword is much more awesome!"

"Thank you." Russia opened his hand and the tiny yellow chick fell to the ground. "Good bye Prussia," He turned and began to walk away, slightly disappointed that his entertainment had been so short-lived.

Dropping to his knees, Prussia scooped his bird up and held him gently in his cupped hands, "You are evil." He growled at Russia's retreating form.

The words had been too quiet for any normal person to hear, but Russia was not, by any stretch of the imagination, normal. He turned, "I am not evil, da? I simply do not like you." Turning away once again, Russia began the long trip back home.

Not willing to let Russia have the last word, Prussia resorted to desperation "Belarus!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, "I found Russia!"

Russia turned to face him once again, this time however, there was fear on his face, "What have you done?"

Stroking Gilbird's tiny head and placing the bird on his head, where it curled up contentedly, Prussia smiled wickedly up at Russia, "Payback."

Off in the distance, Belarus could be seen running towards them, screaming for her brother. Paling even more, Russia ran and yelled over his shoulder, "I will make you _dust_!"

As the Russian faded from view, Prussia rose unsteadily to his feet and returned to Hungary's now pale body. He knelt and held her to his chest. Stroking her blood-soaked hair, Prussia finally allowed the tears to come, now that there was no one around to see them.

"It looks like I was wrong," he whispered into her hair, "awesome people _can_ die."

He had loved her with all his heart; he had never had eyes for any other. He dreamed of her when he slept, dreaming of the day when he would confess his love for her; in his dreams, she would squeal with excitement and tell him that she loved him too. She had never been his, he knew, he saw it in the way that she looked at Austria, that soft, tender gaze she reserved only for him. But that had never stopped Prussia from dreaming, and now it seemed that dreams were all he would ever have.


End file.
